


With an Ice Cold Heart

by smolkatsuki



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Anxiety, Depression, Eventual Smut, First Time, Friends to Lovers, Long-Haired Victor Nikiforov, M/M, Minor Original Character(s), Single POV, Slow Burn, Victor is an emperor, Yuuri's POV, and Yuuri is his concubine
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-04
Updated: 2017-08-26
Packaged: 2018-11-23 12:03:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,697
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11402055
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smolkatsuki/pseuds/smolkatsuki
Summary: Trained in the art of beauty and grace, dancer Yuuri Katsuki is one of few who can apply to be one of Emperor Nikiforov’s concubines. Forced into the role because of his profession, Yuuri is thrust into a dangerous world where love is a game and losing can mean death.Victor watches from afar, hating the way tradition is forced upon himself in so many different ways. But after an introduction to Yuuri, he feels like the rules have been turned in his favour.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I know this is an… odd concept? And I wanted to say that this Victuuri will not contain anything explicit until they’re equals, in one way or another. And though the term concubine has generally been used for women, I think it can be used for any gender.  
> A note, I’m using Hasetsu as the name of the city where the characters are based, but it bears no resemblance to the location in the anime. This is a fantasy setting, but I’m more used to characters than wordbuilding, so expect me to focus on the former rather than the latter.   
> I hope I can get Yuuri’s characterisation down! Let me know what you think!  
> (I also won’t be updating my other fic, I’m afraid. Modern AU’s are not for me, it seems. I really am sorry, but hopefully you’ll like this one more)

The sun was glaring down at the world. For most in the walled city of Hasetsu, that meant a wander by the river, or a stroll through the manicured gardens. For Yuuri, it meant gritting his teeth through sweat and frustration as he tried yet again to capture the sensuality needed for his performance.

And Minako was not, by the look on her face, impressed, though she was doing her best to hide it behind a smile.

‘Yuuri,’ she said, quietly. ‘Shall we try that again?’ Her hands were clasped behind her back, but Yuuri knew that she was only doing it so he couldn’t see the anxious twirling of her fingers as she tried to conceal her feelings. But he nodded, anyway, with a smile on his face that probably looked more like a grimace at this point.

He took a deep breath, and started again.

But there was nothing, nothing to anchor him, nothing to base any of this off. His last dance performance had been so much easier, so much more natural that it felt like the choreography had been made perfectly for him. The story of the dance had been one of loss, and he had managed to capture that intense, wishful grief. At least, that was what Minako had said he’d managed to do. He couldn’t quite believe it himself, and he certainly hadn’t thought so at the performance itself. Not while the Emperor himself had been watching.

But this piece, _On Love,_ it had a different flavour to it.

The Emperor’s brother, Yuri, an already accomplished dancer despite his young age, had been ordered to take the role of unconditional love by the Emperor’s advisor, apparently, according to Minako. She was the only person Yuuri knew that could enter and leave Hasetsu Keep as she pleased other than the royal family, in order to teach Yuri. The Emperor’s brother couldn’t, after all, be seen in a studio such as this, as accomplished as it and Minako were. For Yuuri, the only role left for him had been sensual love. Why she’d bothered to include him in the performance, Yuuri had no idea. Somehow, she’d had faith that he could do it, and Yuuri felt like he was proving her wrong at every turn.

He came to a stop once again, and knew that he hadn’t got it.

‘It’s getting close to lunch,’ Minako said, and Yuuri knew a dismissal was coming, though again, she would do her best to hide it under something else. Minako could be blunt with her words, especially when she was drinking, though she never meant it with malice. But today, she seemed to be treating him differently. Like Yuuri was fragile.

He certainly couldn’t help but feel that way, stuck going over the dance again, again, again. He knew it off by heart, knew the way he was supposed to pose on the stage in front of all those expectant faces.

Two months. Yuuri had two months to get it right.

And Minako had better things to do than looking after him while he threw his career, if he could call it that, into the dirt.

‘Yuuri,’ she said, pulling him out of his thoughts. ‘You’ve been stuck here for hours. Go and get some rest.’

‘I will,’ Yuuri said, his voice almost a whisper. ‘Thank you, Minako.’

She nodded, and taking it as his cue to leave, he exited the dance studio without so much as a cursory glance back.

Outside, the heat wrapped itself around him in an unwelcome embrace, and Yuuri was left breathless as he slumped his way home to his family’s hot springs on the edge of town, a good walk from the studio. It did mean he could walk by the river, and he sat on a bench in order to observe the rest of the world as he caught his breath.

As summer was slowly losing its grasp on the world, with autumn just creeping its way in, there was a slight chill to the wind that Yuuri was grateful for. Hasetsu river bubbled merrily along in front of him, and couples of all ages walked by, lost in their own separate worlds. He sighed. What could he do to get that elusive feeling he needed for his performance? Where could he find that emotion which he so desperately needed?

His mind went back to his last performance. It hadn’t been long since Vicchan had died, so he’d had that experience to draw upon, he supposed. Yuuri’s body had been heavy and sluggish with the sense of something missing, something that he’d wanted to always be there but hadn’t known that wasn’t truly possible until the day Vicchan died. What could someone like him know about something like sensual love?

His mind turned to the Emperor.

Victor Nikiforov, _Emperor_ Nikiforov. His title made him sound so distant, yet Yuuri had seen him there, sat in the front row of the small dance theatre. Watching him, at what Yuuri thought was possibly his worst performance yet.

Outside of drawings, it had been the first time Yuuri had seen the Emperor. Yuuri had also heard about him from subtle hints from Minako. He knew that she went to Hasetsu Keep to train him in dancing, although the Emperor had never performed on stage. At least, he hadn’t performed to the public, since people weren’t meant to know that Minako had gone to him at all. Yuuri kept it top secret, and was glad that Minako seemed to trust him enough to give him at least an inkling of why she made so many visits to Hasetsu Keep.

He had sat there with his chief advisor, known as Yakov Feltsman, and his brother Yuri, the servants lurking towards the back of the theatre ready to come in at any sign of discomfort. But for a moment, those blue eyes had been watching _him,_ watching _Yuuri_ …

Or so he thought. Yuuri still wasn’t too sure about that detail.

After the performance, he’d felt sick with grief, it having conjured up too many memories of Vicchan. But he’d still needed to attend the backstage ceremony, having completed the dance successfully. He didn’t remember much after that.

Not long afterwards, the Emperor had finally married, a Mila Babicheva. It was rather late in life for an Emperor to have gone without marrying, but a marriage had been arranged nonetheless. Yuuri wondered whether he’d been waiting to fall in love, and it just so happened that the arrangement with the Babicheva Empire was a peaceable one too.

Yuuri shook his head. There was no use sitting there and postulating, and besides, his mother had probably already laid out lunch in preparation for his return. Getting up, he carried on through the winding cobblestone streets of the city he’d called home for so long.

***

At home, his mother and father were waiting, and food was piled on to Yuuri’s plate already. Forcing a smile and assuring his parents that he’d had a good day training, he ate heartily, feeling the warmth fill him up inside and a calmness settle over his mind.

‘Is Mari out?’ he asked, once he was finished, wiping his hands on the cloth proffered by his mother.

‘She should’ve been back already,’ his mother said, worriedly. ‘She said she’d be back by lunch.’

As if on cue, the front door banged open and Mari sloped in.

‘Sorry I’m late,’ she said, in a voice that sounded like she couldn’t have cared less, but Yuuri knew to be genuine. ‘There was a crowd outside the Keep’s wall, so I asked what was going on. Apparently, the Emperor’s looking for the three concubines, finally. That’s all I heard though. I couldn’t seem to get any more information.’

Yuuri felt his breath stick in his throat. According to tradition, the Emperor or Empress of the royal line had to select three concubines after they got married, namely so if their partner died, they had someone to replace them. Although there were three concubines, all vied for Emperor’s attention, and one would come out the winner. The rest? Well, history hadn’t been kind to them. Assassination was the order of the day, and more concubines had been replaced by the unlucky servants that caught the past few ruler’s attentions than Yuuri could count.

But Mari was looking at him, and Yuuri understood she knew his feelings towards the Emperor. After all, they did live together, and after his last performance, he hadn’t been far from Yuuri’s mind.

She didn’t say anything, though, but Yuuri knew it wouldn’t be long. Mari cared, cared about him and his failing career. She would want better options for him than to fade into more obscurity than he was already shrouded in.

That night, when he was in his room, staring out at the rising moon, someone knocked on the door.

‘Come in,’ Yuuri said. Mari opened the door, coming in and leaning against its frame.

‘You know I’ll always support your dancing, right, Yuuri?’

‘I know.’

‘I’m not here to say you should take that opportunity,’ Mari said, and Yuuri felt the knot in his chest loosen slightly, ‘because, quite frankly, I don’t think you should.’

Curiosity got the better of him. ‘Why do you think that?’

‘I don’t want to see my little brother get hurt, that’s all. I’m not saying you’re fragile, or anything like that. But I know for sure you’d make the cut, and the risk that brings… I don’t want to think what you’d have to go through.’

‘Thanks, Mari,’ Yuuri said, honestly. ‘That means a lot.’

She hummed and left his room, leaving Yuuri to his thoughts.

What would it have meant, if he was to be the Emperor’s concubine? How would life have changed for him? Yuuri and his family lived comfortably enough, attracting customers from the far reaches of the empire to Yu-topia, but life in Hasetsu Keep would be completely different. A life of glamour, luxury, and indulgence.

A life of backstabbing, a life without freedom, without love.

Perhaps that last one was a possibility, but it would be unrequited. Who would fall in love with a concubine, someone who could be killed at any moment if the Emperor expressed the least bit of interest in them?

How could the Emperor stand it?

Yuuri shook his head. It didn’t concern him, it wasn’t anything to do with him.

But he couldn’t help but wonder.

***

Clouds scudded the sky early next morning, blotting out the little sun that dared show its face. Yuuri was walking to Minako’s studio, glad of the quiet the city offered as dawn broke.

Minako wasn’t there, but that wasn’t unusual, so Yuuri set about practising, feeling the stress of the last day fade away as he went through the motions of a different dance to _On Love_ after warming up _._ It wasn’t anything special, just one from an old performance, but it gave him a sense of warmth, belonging. It felt like home, and Yuuri was happy to forget about his looming performance date.

But as the day wore on, a vague feeling of unease settled in his heart, and Yuuri broke away from his trance to check his surroundings. No one was there, so he went out of the studio.

There was a man stood in the corner, and he turned away from the window he’d been looking through. He had greying hair, and frowned when he saw Yuuri staring at him.

‘You’re Yuuri Katsuki, correct?’ His voice was deep, with a commanding air.

‘I am,’ Yuuri said, after a moment.

‘I am Yakov Feltsman. You may know me as the Emperor’s chief advisor.’ Of course, Yuuri knew who he was. But he didn’t say anything, just nodded instead. ‘As you may know, there has been a decree posted on the wall of the Keep.’

‘Yes,’ Yuuri said, his mouth gone dry. ‘I know about that.’

Yakov nodded, seemingly pleased that he didn’t have to explain. ‘I’ve been looking for those eligible within Hasetsu. At least one of the people taking the role must be from the city itself. The rumours are that a Yuuri Katsuki is a trained dancer, and would be a good fit for such a role.’

‘I…’ Yuuri started. ‘I don’t think–‘

‘You would refuse the Emperor’s wishes?’ Yakov shook his head as Yuuri’s eyes widened. Yuuri began to protest, but Yakov spoke before he could get any words out. ‘’ve already signed you up, anyway. I just came to tell you in person.’

He turned and walked away, leaving Yuuri in the dust.

***

He bumped into Phichit on the way home in front of the river. He was in a daze, but the younger man pulled him out of it with a brilliant smile.

‘Yuuri!’ Phichit said, but his expression grew serious after he caught the look on Yuuri’s face. ‘What’s the matter?’ he asked, guiding Yuuri to a bench.

Yuuri sat down heavily, and took a deep breath.

‘You know the Emperor is looking for concubines,’ he said.

‘Of course I know. It’s all over the city.’

‘You know the Emperor’s advisor, Yakov?’

‘Yes,’ Phichit said. ‘Yuuri, what’s all this about?’

‘He came to see me while I was practising. Phichit, he told me I had to sign up.’ Yuuri felt like his voice was thick, filled with unshed tears he wasn’t going to let his friend see.

Phichit’s mouth dropped open. ‘But you said no, right?’

‘I’ve not got a choice in the matter. He’s signed me up already.’

Phichit bit his lip, thinking for a moment before answering. ‘Then, Yuuri, I’ll sign up with you.’

‘What? Phichit, no! This is on me, not you.’

‘I won’t take no for an answer. If anything, we both won’t pass the initial selection process and get sent home. That way we’ve done our duty and we can just go home and not think about it again. Right? And if I get picked as a servant, or something, then at least I’ve got paid work for my family to live off. My dance career doesn’t exactly support us very well.’

Yuuri felt his mind settle a little after hearing that. ‘I don’t want to force you into doing anything you don’t want to.’

‘Nonsense, Yuuri. What else are best friends for?’

Yuuri laughed, a choked, half strangled sound, but a laugh nonetheless. ‘I’ll go with you, then. But you know that you don’t have to, if you don’t want to when we get there.’

Phichit shook his head. ‘I’ll stick with you, don’t worry.’

They got up from the bench and made the journey to outside Hasetsu Keep, where a crowd was already gathered. It looked as though people from all over the world had come to sign up, though Hasetsu was already a cultural melting pot to begin with. There was a woman sat at a table, from what Yuuri could see through all the people, signing everyone’s names down as they came forward. Phichit and Yuuri joined the back of the queue, though they could hear a small argument up in front of them.

‘Sara, you can’t do this!’

‘I have to, Mickey!’

‘Then I’m signing up with you.’

The pair, who looked to be brother and sister, made their way to the front of the queue, and both got their names signed. Sara looked as though she wanted to say something more but didn’t, and the two walked away, leaving Yuuri and Phichit to sign up.

The woman at the table looked expectantly up at Phichit.

‘Are you sure you want to do this?’ Yuuri said. His friend nodded determinedly.

‘I’ve got to. I’m not going to let you down, Yuuri.’

Despite his misgivings, Yuuri felt a warmth bloom in his chest as Phichit signed his name down. After all, if it went like he’d said, they’d just be sent home after the first round. The other people signing up were probably much better qualified to become someone like the Emperor’s concubines than they were. They were both dancers, yes, but there were many who were trained in the art of conversation. And most likely the art of seduction, too. Yuuri felt himself blush a little at the thought.

‘Done,’ Phichit said, and they both stepped out of the queue. ‘See? We’ll be fine. Come on, let’s go home. All we need to do now is wait.’

They went their separate ways after a brief walk together, and Yuuri pushed open the front door to his home, glad to be back.

‘How did today go?’ His mother was there and waiting, guiding him towards the table where they could sit and talk. Yuuri swallowed, but began to tell her the events of the day. Her face creased with worry, but she echoed Phichit’s thoughts on the matter. Yuuri thought she didn’t look as though she believed it, however, and the knot in his chest began to tighten.

‘We’ll support you no matter what,’ she said, and Yuuri gave her a wan smile.

It took him a long time to fall asleep that night.

***

On the day of the selection, his mother spoke as he headed out of the door. ‘I’m sure you’ll be coming home soon.’

‘I will,’ Yuuri said, but the idea of making a lasting promise eluded him.

He’d decided to wear a traditional kimono. He could have worn one of the costumes he’d used for past performances, but he felt that this way he wouldn’t draw too much attention to himself. It was the first time he would ever step foot inside Hasetsu Keep, and he wanted it to be the last.

He met Phichit by the river, and they walked together with the thousands of people who had signed up from all over the both the Nikiforov and Babicheva Empire. Dawn was tightening its grip over the city, and the plaza in front of the multiple gates to the Keep was abuzz with noise.

The gates opened at the deep boom of a gong, and the Imperial Guards, those who looked over the Keep, came pouring through. They corralled everyone into the main entry courtyard, and Yuuri and Phichit had to hold on to each other so they weren’t separated.

Hasetsu Keep, although named that, was really a separate city unto itself. A long-standing city of around one hundred years, it had taken many just to build it, both in time and workforce. It remained an icon of wealth and beauty even now, and there were plenty of rumours about what lay inside. Yuuri hoped that he wouldn’t be the one to see if the rumours were true.

‘Look,’ Phichit said. ‘The royal advisors are here. They’ll start the initial selection.’

Yuuri bit his lip, and watched as the numbers dwindled around him as people were sent home straight away for a multitude of reasons he couldn’t hear. There was a ringing in his ears and his breaths were getting shorter. Phichit stood by him, glancing at him every now and again to make sure he was alright, a hand on his shoulder to keep him steady.

Yuuri focused on his breathing, taking in a deep breath, counting to three, and letting it out again. There was a stray weed growing through the cobblestone floor, and he stared at it so he wouldn’t lose track of his surroundings.

The sun, already blazing, was creeping up into the sky, and the heat made his head feel lighter than it already was.

A royal advisor approached, book in hand. He wrote down something as he looked at Yuuri and Phichit.

‘You both stay,’ he said, and Yuuri felt his stomach drop. He shared a terrified glance at Phichit, whose brown eyes were wide. He soon schooled his expression into a smile, though.

‘Don’t worry,’ he said as the advisor went away. ‘We’ve still got a chance to go home. It’s not even really begun, yet.’

Yuuri guessed a rough estimate of how many people were left, about two hundred, it seemed. Had that many already been sent away?

They were ordered to line up in rows, and Yuuri was thankful he and Phichit were somewhere in the middle, lost amongst the crowd. Perhaps they would forget about them, but unfortunately, the royal advisors seemed far too efficient for that.

The advisors split up, so each one could tackle a separate line of people. They were measured, prodded and poked, and Yuuri did his best to keep a calm expression on his face as he and Phichit were manhandled into various positions in order to be measured.

There was a cry from further down the line. A girl had broken down sobbing, most likely from nerves, and she was quickly taken away. Another man appeared to have fainted and was carried away. Whether that was from nerves or the growing heat of the day, Yuuri wasn’t sure. Dryness was clutching the back of his throat, but the advisors had moved off already. Yuuri doubted they would’ve given him anything, anyway. He looked at Phichit, who gave him a reassuring smile in return.

‘Some of you will now be called into categories – either service or the potential to be His Majesty’s royal concubine.’ A voice of one of the advisors rang out across the courtyard, her tone as clear as a bell. ‘The rest of you shall be dismissed.’

They went down the list alphabetically, dividing them up into the three categories. As the list grew closer to the C’s, Yuuri had to remind himself to focus on his breathing. He didn’t want this, but he wasn’t going to show weakness in front of all these people. He’d come this far, he wasn’t going to stop now.

‘Chulanont, Phichit!’

Yuuri felt his breath hitch in his throat. He looked at Phichit, who was staring straight ahead as he stepped forwards out of formation, ready to be called into the requisite category.

‘Service!’

Phichit gave one single look back at Yuuri, and it was a pained one.

Yuuri felt sick, bile rising upwards through him. How could he have done this? How could he have let Phichit down like this? Forcing him to come along like this? And now, there he was, being guided into the small group of future servants. Servants to the Emperor, but servants nonetheless. Phichit had said about the work bringing money to his family, but… this didn’t feel right. Not at all.

He was so lost in his thoughts that he almost didn’t catch his name being read out.

‘Katsuki, Yuuri!’

There was a buzzing in his ears, unsteady breathing, feeling of sickness and self-hatred. He stepped out of the lines, could feel everyone’s gaze on him.

‘Potential!’

***

The potentials were brought to a courtyard, through the side alleys. Only the Emperor and Empress themselves were allowed to use the front path.

Yuuri couldn’t feel much of anything at all. Apparently, they were to meet the His and Her Majesty, a few at a time. Even if there was a chance of him going home, now he didn’t want it. He needed to do this, needed to be there for Phichit. Why did he have to wear such normal clothes? Looking around at the other potentials, they were dressed much more finely, like they had made an effort to be there. Many of the women and men were wearing makeup traditional of their homeland, though Yuuri couldn’t place which style was from where. He felt almost naked in comparison. He hadn’t even slicked his hair back, and he’d left his eyeglasses at home. Yuuri wouldn’t even be able to get them back.

If he was picked, that was.

There were scattered snippets of conversations between the people gathered there. From what Yuuri could here, it was mostly about the Emperor, some of it true, some of it false, some of it Yuuri wasn’t sure.

‘… He’s meant to be beautiful…’

‘… He never leaves the Keep…’

‘… Apparently, he spends the first night with his favourite concubine…’

‘… He’s called the Emperor of ice for a reason, you know…’

After a few moments, an advisor, the same woman who had spoken his name like a death toll, spoke again.

‘His Majesty Emperor Victor Nikiforov and Her Majesty Empress Mila Nikiforov will now summon…’ She read out a few names. ‘… And Yuuri Katsuki!’

Yuuri fell in the back of the line with the others, gritting his teeth, feeling like he was marching towards something much more sinister than a simple meeting.

The side entrance to the Emperor’s throne room did nothing to minimise the impact of what lay inside. Pillars carved with beautiful engravings held up the hall, and the tile floor carried out an intricate mosaic. Right at the very end of the hall were two thrones, which the Emperor and Empress were sat upon. The potentials walked in line with Yuuri at the back, but naturally fell side by side as they knelt on the cold, hard floor in order to receive their leader properly. Yuuri noticed Yakov off to the side, and he stepped forwards when he saw the potentials enter.

From his place on the floor at the end of the right of the line, Yuuri couldn’t see the Emperor, but he didn’t dare look up, at least, not until he was spoken to.

Yakov spoke. ‘Introduce yourselves, starting from the left.’

Each person stated their names, quietly and clearly. Yakov inquired to a few about their profession, or a certain skillset they had.

Once the person next to him spoke their name. Yuuri allowed himself to look up in order to do the same. Emperor Nikiforov looked down at him, blue eyes full of something Yuuri couldn’t place. His hair was tied back simply, pulling the long silver locks away from his face.

‘My name is Yuuri Katsuki,’ Yuuri said. This time, instead of Yakov speaking, the Emperor did, causing Yakov to give him a glare.

‘You’re renowned in Hasetsu for your dance, aren’t you? Minako teaches you.’

Yuuri tried to swallow his shock at his voice. ‘I… I am. And yes, she does.’

The Emperor smiled, and it was like the sun breaking through a curtain of clouds. He didn’t say anything else, but Yuuri could feel his gaze on him even as he lowered his head once more.

They were dismissed, and Yuuri followed the others back out into the courtyard and through a series of stately rooms until they reached another hall. This one had several priceless artefacts in it, and the advisors spoke quietly and reverently about each one as the group knelt on the mosaic floor.

Eventually, just as Yuuri’s knees began to throb from pain, the last group came in.

After what felt like hours came a procession of servants, and behind them, the Emperor and his Empress, who took the only chairs in the room. Yakov stood to their side and spoke.

‘I will now announce His Majesty the Emperor’s three concubines.’

Heart juddering in his chest so loudly he thought everyone could hear it, Yuuri closed his eyes and listened.

‘Crispino, Sara.’

A gasp from the other end of the room that was quickly silenced.

‘Giacometti, Christophe.’

Yuuri tried his best to stay calm as Yakov opened his mouth to say the last name.

‘Katsuki, Yuuri.’

He focused on the pain in his knees to keep himself upright. He had done it.

But what would that mean for his future, if he made it that far at all?


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for the kudos and comments, everyone! That means a lot, especially since this is an AU fantasy fic, which I know isn’t everyone’s cup of tea. If you want to ask me stuff outside of the comments, [my tumblr is here](https://smol-katsuki.tumblr.com/) shameless self promo, I know, but it IS a Yuri on Ice blog, haha.

_‘… Apparently, he spends the first night with his favourite concubine…’_

Fireworks cracked open in the sky, showering Yuuri in a rainbow of colour. He tried his best to smile in front of Sara and Christophe, who both had similar expressions plastered across their faces.

The Emperor and Empress had retired to their rooms for the night, and this celebration was more for the benefit of those waiting outside the Keep who were clamouring for some kind of display. It had been a long time since anything on this scale had happened, and many were too young to have seen such a thing. Yuuri certainly hadn’t been alive long enough to witness anything like this.

They had been given time to recover from their day, though they hadn’t been shown to their rooms, yet. Yuuri had simply been allowed to wash his face and drink some water. The food and wine, one of the advisors had explained, were waiting to be served now, as dusk fell and the fireworks began. The three of them had been guided into one of the landscaped gardens, and bright orange speckled it from tiger lilies, standing out amongst the other flowers. The fragrance from all the wildlife was so overpowering Yuuri couldn’t even begin to think about eating, and his mind was so tied up in knots from the thoughts racing through it that he could barely keep up his collected façade.

None of them spoke. Yuuri couldn’t hear the celebrations from outside Hasetsu Keep, and he wondered how lost they were inside its maze-like streets.

Now, sat at a table together, servants began to bring out a large collection of dishes.

‘We wish you a great meal!’ they intoned, once the food was all laid out.

One of the advisors, the woman who had called his name out, who from the servants talking Yuuri had found out was called Lilia, came up to them just as they were about to lift the lids off the serving platters.

‘Not yet,’ she said, as Christophe began to lift food onto his plate. She snapped her fingers and one of the servants came up to them, and began taking a piece out of every one of the platters. ‘The food must be checked, first.’

That did little to help Yuuri’s appetite.

The thought from before kept circling his brain, choking his other thoughts and presenting itself at the forefront of his mind. A night with the Emperor… it had certainly been something he’d thought about, ever since he’d seen him that night at the theatre. The way he had thought the Emperor had looked at him on that stage had seen to that. But only in passing.

And not like this.

But it wasn’t like he was going to be the favourite out of them. Not with Sara, or Christophe, both who were utterly stunning in their own rights.

Picking at the food, feeling guilty that he couldn’t wolf it down the same way as he did his mother’s cooking, Yuuri watched as the other two seemed to be experiencing the same lack of appetite. Wondering whether they were thinking similar things to him, but not having the courage to ask, Yuuri waited as time crawled by and Lilia finally deemed it time for them to leave the meal.

He was thankful to retire to his house, a servant guiding him through the complex roads and alleyways as though it was second nature. Once inside his new chambers, Yuuri didn’t bother to look, only dismissing the servants who had trailed behind him with heartfelt thanks before lying on the great bed that dominated his bedroom. He left the door to the sitting room open.

Not long afterwards, however, there came a knock from the main door before Yuuri could descend deeper into his thoughts. Getting up felt like wading through an ocean, his limbs wouldn’t comply, but he somehow managed to make it to the front door and opened it.

Greeting him was a familiar smile.

‘Phichit!’ Yuuri almost threw his arms around him, before noticing he had a tray that was piled with assorted desserts and drinks. ‘Why the tray?’

‘I had to convince the other servants that I was coming to your room for a good reason,’ Phichit laughed. Then his face grew serious. ‘Are you alright, Yuuri?’

‘Better now you’re here. More importantly, how are you?’ Yuuri guided Phichit down to one of the embroidered sofas that stood proudly on polished wood, and his friend set down the tray on the coffee table. It looked as though the delicate thing wouldn’t hold its weight against such a heavy burden, but somehow, it managed.

‘Getting introduced to all of the staff. There’s so many and we all hold different ranks, Yuuri, it’s so confusing. Though, I guess it doesn’t matter much, because they all want to become the first attendants of you and the others.’

‘First attendants?’ Yuuri asked. ‘Why?’

‘’They rank the most highly. They’re with you nearly every minute of the day, giving advice, and so on. Hey, Yuuri, I could be your first attendant, couldn’t I?’

‘You could!’ Yuuri said, but then frowned. ‘But Phichit, I don’t want you to have to _serve_ me. That’s just… wrong.’

‘I’m a servant already,’ Phichit said, a little sadly. ‘I’d rather be with you than serve the advisors. Rumours are some are quite handy with the whip when the Emperor and Empress aren’t there.’

Yuuri paled and spoke almost immediately. ‘Then you’ll be my first attendant. If anybody questions you, send them to me.’

Phichit nodded. ‘Right. We’d best eat some of these desserts before I go back for the night. I’m not supposed to have any, but what the others don’t know won’t hurt them.’ He picked up a small cake and was about to take a bite when Yuuri’s mind flashed back to dinner.

‘Wait!’

Phichit paused. ‘What is it?’

‘What if it’s poisoned?’

‘Oh, don’t worry about that, Yuuri. I watched the others make it, and one of the advisors was there anyway. I don’t think they would have tried anything.' He took a bite of the cake with an expression filled with bliss. ‘This. Is. Amazing.’

Yuuri’s stomach growled in protest, so he took another cake off the tray and bit into it. The sweet tang of lemon filled his mouth, and before he could stop himself, he’d eaten the whole slice and was reaching for another one.

‘The rumours about the food were true, then,’ Yuuri said.

‘Looks like it.’

They sat and talked about nothing in particular, enjoying each other’s company all while avoiding the tough topics.

That was until Yuuri blurted out a question, effectively ruining the light-hearted atmosphere.

‘Do you think the Emperor will ask about one of us?’

Phichit looked up from the tray, pulling his hand back from one of the desserts so it lay by his side. He was frowning, and Yuuri felt guilty he’d spoiled the mood.

‘I don’t know. I’m sorry, Yuuri. I didn’t even think to ask.’

‘That’s okay,’ Yuuri said, giving him a tired smile. ‘I suppose we’ll just have to wait and see. I guess you should be going back now, anyway. It’s getting late.’

‘If you’re sure,’ Phichit said, ad Yuuri nodded, as much as he didn’t want to. His friend got up, taking the tray with him, and left.

Though Yuuri hadn’t even began to explore the rooms his chambers held, there was only one place he wanted to go, and that was to sleep. He left the living room and collapsed on his bed, shutting his eyes and his mind away from the rest of the world. But that didn’t stop his mind from playing all the fears he’d collected over the day.

Surely his mother would know that he had been chosen by now. She, Mari, and his father would be worrying over him, and that caused his stomach to roil. He wished he could go home, back to the safety of Yu-topia and its familiar smell and warmth of home. Everything here felt so cold, with its tiled floors and large, airy windows, its gardens that had been so neatly clipped and pruned into everlasting perfection. The Emperor had talked to him specifically when they had met, and his mind churned at the possibilities that held. What if he was called tonight? What would he do? Yuuri didn’t have any experience of those sorts of things, and he didn’t particularly feel like sharing his first time with a stranger, even though he had thought about him. But that was just a fleeting fantasy. This was real, and he felt lost. He also didn’t want to wish the same fate on Sara and Christophe, not after what he’d seen of their expressions tonight.

And what of Phichit’s family? He hadn’t even asked. Would they have gotten the news that he’d been pulled into servitude? And it was all Yuuri’s fault, too.

Tears threatened at the edge of his eyes, and Yuuri just decided to let them fall. Nobody was watching, he was alone, so his emotions were allowed to take over, if only for a night.

He spent the rest of the night tossing and turning, unable to fall asleep as he realised what a mess he’d gotten himself into. If he hadn’t have been a dancer – if he hadn’t been stupid and pursued his dreams, then none of this would be happening. Yakov wouldn’t have been able to find him, he wouldn’t have attracted the Emperor’s attention, and he and Phichit would have been safe at home. Yuuri couldn’t believe that he’d spent even a second thinking about what it would be like being a concubine. Now he was living the reality, and he felt as though his world was crumbling to pieces.

The hope that he would stay unnoticed was the only thing he had left to hold on to.

***

Breakfast was a similar affair to last night’s dinner. A huge number of dishes, all carried in by a large group of servants, littered the dining table. Phichit came in with them, along with Lilia. They intoned the same line they had used last night.

‘You have picked your first attendant, then?’ she asked, as Yuuri stared wide eyed at the platters in front of him, unable to believe that this was going to happen for every meal.

‘Yes,’ Yuuri said. ‘Phichit is going to be my first attendant.’

Lilia raised an eyebrow but didn’t say anything. One of the servants came over to start testing the food, and after that ordeal was over with, they sat down with the others on the floor, back to the wall and head facing downwards. This was awful. Here he was, about to eat a luxurious meal, and everyone else except Lilia was sat on the floor, including Phichit. Yuuri guessed he had to keep up appearances in front of the others. It seemed horrible that all this food was to be wasted on someone like him. Lilia turned to leave, bidding him a good meal with a perfunctory bow, but he spoke before she could dismiss herself properly.

‘Can I dismiss everyone?’ Yuuri said quietly to her. ‘I don’t want them to be uncomfortable.’

‘It is an honour for them to serve you,’ Lilia said. ‘The servants will feel that they have failed you if you dismiss them.’

‘What about the food? I can’t eat this all by myself.’

‘You can reward the servants with food, if you feel they’ve excelled in their duties. I will leave you now, to enjoy your meal in peace. I will not intrude upon you any longer, master Katsuki.’

Yuuri looked down at the plates as Lilia left the room. He waited until she had closed the door quietly behind herself before catching Phichit’s eye. Phichit didn’t say anything, and with an unpleasant jolt Yuuri realised he was waiting for Yuuri to summon him from his position on the floor.

Would they have to go through this every single meal?

‘Phichit,’ he said, trying to keep his voice steady, ‘come and keep me company while I eat.’

‘I would be honoured, master Katsuki,’ Phichit said, but Yuuri saw a gleam in his eyes and a faint smile on his lips. He thanked the heavens that Phichit knew the play they had to perform.

They talked quietly, again avoiding the more serious topics that could have cropped up – Yuuri didn’t want to make a scene in front of everyone, and he didn’t want to cause Phichit any more distress than he was probably already feeling at such a situation.

Yuuri tried to eat as little as possible, guilty that Phichit had to sit and watch him without being able to touch any of the food himself. He sighed – that guilt was becoming far too familiar to him. Once he was done, there were still a large number of plates that had yet to be emptied. He wasn’t sure what to do, so he asked Phichit in a whisper.

‘Just tell them you’re finished,’ he whispered back.

Yuuri did so, then added. ‘You can share the rest amongst yourselves.’

The row of servants looked up at him in surprise, and then bowed low in unison, heads almost touching the floor.

‘We are grateful for your generosity!’

Yuuri looked down at his plate.

‘Phichit, please can you stay behind?’

As the servants left with the last of the dishes, Phichit watched in his chair.

‘Shall we explore a bit, Yuuri?’ he said, after the last servant had left. ‘I bet you didn’t look around. Let’s see what this place has to offer.’

‘You don’t have to do this,’ Yuuri said, quietly.

‘What do you mean?’

‘Act happy for our sakes. You don’t have to put up a front around me, you know that.’

Phichit’s smile faded. ‘I know. It’s more about trying to make myself feel better. I wanted to write a letter to my family, but we’re not allowed.’

Yuuri hadn’t even thought about sending a letter. ‘Do you think I could? We could both write it and I’ll get my mother to give it to your parents.’

‘You’re not allowed to send one either, I don’t think. We’re supposed to cut all our ties off with anyone outside Hasetsu Keep.’

‘Maybe I could ask the Emperor…’ Yuuri said, and Phichit frowned. ‘He’s going to summon me no matter what, at some point, so there’s little sense in pretending it won’t happen.’

‘I know,’ Phichit said. ‘I just… this wasn’t exactly the way I was expecting life to go. All I wanted to do was work hard and dance. Maybe write my own performance one day for you and me to dance in.’

‘I’m sorry,’ Yuuri said, voice thick.

‘It’s not your fault, Yuuri. It’s that Yakov. He’s the one who forced your hand.’

‘But you didn’t have to come with me.’

‘It was my choice. You didn’t put my hand to that paper and force me to sign, did you? You’re not to blame. I wanted to do this, and I want to support you. So here I am. It’s done now, and there’s no changing that.’

Where else on Earth could someone be honoured with a best friend like Phichit? They hugged, and for a moment Yuuri was reminded of home.

***

After lunch, which thankfully was a much less extravagant affair than breakfast, Yuuri and Phichit had found a chess board to play with. Phichit knew the rules, and was explaining them to him and guiding him through his choices. It was enough to forget, for the moment.

Unfortunately, a knock on the door shattered the thin veneer of peace Yuuri had built up over their game.

‘Come in,’ Yuuri said, and the door opened, revealing Yakov.

He knew without even him speaking that it was time. He stood up as Yakov spoke.

‘The Emperor wishes to see you,’ he said, shortly, and Yuuri gave a stiff nod. Phichit’s warm brown eyes were clouded over with emotion, but neither of them could say anything, not now, not in front of Yakov. ‘Alone.’

Phichit took it as his cue to leave, giving Yuuri a wan but supportive smile before he made his departure. Yakov and Yuuri weren’t far behind, but they were quickly separated as Yakov lead him down a complex series of alleyways. Would he ever get used to the layout? Hopefully, he wouldn’t have to tread this particular path often.

As he walked, trying to keep up the pace Yakov was setting, his mind ran through the possibilities of what was about to happen.

The Emperor had most likely summoned either Christophe or Sara last night, which gave Yuuri some small sense of comfort. After all, that meant he wasn’t as much as a priority for him. Though he would have liked to have been forgotten about, the curse of only having three concubines rather than the many that had been expected in the old days meant that it was unlikely. Yuuri had thought, however, that he would have had more time to prepare himself. Clearly, the Emperor wanted to compare them, or something similar.

Yuuri was suddenly very glad about his lack of experience. If he didn’t catch the Emperor’s attention in the way the others did, that meant he was less likely to be summoned in the future, and was less likely to be a potential victim of a murder.

He remembered thinking of Emperor Nikiforov as some sort of deity, when he was young. Yuuko and Yuuri would watch the parades in his honour, although the Emperor himself was never present, and imagine what it would be like to be someone so important that they could get into Hasetsu Keep. They even used to talk about becoming an advisor.

But never a concubine.

Feeling a stab of guilt that he hadn’t even wished Yuuko, Takeshi, and the triplets a goodbye, Yuuri wondered whether his parents had told them of the news. How would they even explain something like this?

‘We’ve arrived,’ Yakov said, pulling Yuuri out of his reverie. They had ended up at the same entrance to the Emperor’s throne room that Yuuri had used yesterday. ‘The Emperor has invited you to his personal quarters. Be honoured.’

Yuuri could only muster a nod as Yakov began to lead him through the throne room, through endless corridors of the palace. Again, he explained, this was what the servants and concubines used. But it led to an extravagantly decorated hallway, fitted with plush chairs and, tables bearing various fruits, and plants hanging from the ceiling. The double doors at the end were painted a red so striking that Yuuri thought there was something wrong with his eyes.

‘This is the main entrance to the Emperor’s quarters. I must leave you now. Go straight in, and don’t keep His Majesty waiting.’

Yuuri watched as Yakov turned swiftly round and left the hallway the same way he had come.

He stared at the red doors for a long time. But he knew what was about to happen, had to happen, and there was no running away from it. Steadying himself with a deep breath, he raised his hands and pushed open the doors.

The first thing that greeted Yuuri was a spacious sitting room, much bigger than his own. The walls were a dainty cream, and the sofas dotting the landscape were light gold. Not sure what to do with himself, he took of his shoes and left them by the door, then sat on one of the sofas and waited.

Even though only a few minutes passed, it felt agonisingly longer. Outside, from what he could see from the windows, the sundial in the garden showed that it was around three in the afternoon. Why had the Emperor summoned him at such an odd time?

There was a scuffle from an adjoining room, and it pulled Yuuri’s attention away from the flowers and straight over to the offending noise. The door opened, and Emperor Nikiforov stepped through.

He was wearing rather simple clothes, plain navy, at first glance. But at further inspection, Yuuri saw that they were deeply embroidered with silver wyverns, an auspicious animal and a symbol of magic. As he saw Yuuri, he broke out into a smile.

‘Yuuri!’

What did he say? What could he possibly say?

‘Your Majesty,’ Yuuri replied, standing up and bowing low. When he straightened back up, he caught the look on the Emperor’s face. Was he… disappointed? No, that couldn’t be right.

The Emperor sat down on the opposite sofa, gesturing for Yuuri to do the same. He did so, and Yuuri stared at his hands, trying to look anywhere other than him. Part of him wished that he’d turned around and walked away from those red doors, no matter the consequences. He didn’t want to be here. He wanted to be anywhere else but here. Even if it was back in his new house, playing chess with Phichit.

‘Please, call me Victor,’ the Emperor said. ‘You know, you’re the first person I’ve summoned here.’

Yuuri stomach clenched, breath hitching in his throat as his head snapped up to meet the gaze of the Emperor. His face grew cloudy as he took in Yuuri’s expression.

‘I just wanted to talk,’ he said, quietly.

‘But–‘ Yuuri started, unable to stop himself. ‘But I’m your concubine.’

The Emperor sighed, a sound so heavy that Yuuri thought it would crash right through the tile floor.

‘Yuuri, I’m not asking anything of you, or Sara, or Christophe. You’re my concubines because tradition demands it. I don’t intend to follow through with the rest of that tradition. I just wanted to talk,’ he repeated. He sounded much more tired than his twenty-seven years.

Yuuri felt himself loosening up as he took in what the Emperor had said. Could he really believe it? The expression on his face told him he could, and Yuuri’s own heart was giving him a warm feeling of trust. Here was the Emperor – the man – who had watched him with wide eyes as he danced on stage. Yuuri gave a tentative smile, and spoke.

‘I can do that.’

The Emperor’s eyes lit up, but before he could say anything, a mass of curly brown fur shot out of the room the Emperor had come from and leapt at Yuuri.

_Vicchan?_ Yuuri thought, but no, this dog was much bigger, though apparently, just as friendly.

‘Makkachin!’ the Emperor admonished, but his voice had a warm note to it. ‘Leave poor Yuuri alone.’

Makkachin gave Yuuri one last lick for good measure, then proceeded to curl up under his feet.

‘They’re beautiful,’ Yuuri said, before he could stop himself. He flushed, a little embarrassed, but the Emperor was smiling.

‘He is, isn’t he?’

‘I… I used to have a dog just like him. He was a lot smaller, though.’

‘What was his name?’

‘Vicchan,’ Yuuri said, hoping that the Emperor wouldn’t make the connection. He and Yuuko had decided to name him after a parade, hoping the name would bring Vicchan good luck. Thankfully, he didn’t seem to notice the similarity in names.

There was a moment of silence, punctuated only by the beat of Makkachin’s tail beating against the bottom of the sofa.

‘Well,’ the Emperor said. ‘If Makkachin likes you, then that’s a good sign. I have nothing to worry about.’

Yuuri smiled, mirroring the Emperor’s sunny expression, resisting the urge to shake his head in disbelief instead. Was he really sat in Emperor Nikiforov’s quarters, talking about their love for dogs? He seemed a lot less like an Emperor, ruler of so many countries, and a lot closer to being human.

‘Shall I order us some tea?’ the Emperor asked. ‘Do you drink tea, or should I ask for something else?’

‘I drink tea,’ Yuuri said.

‘Great! I’ll go and find Yakov, he’s bound to be around here somewhere. I won’t be long, Yuuri,’ the Emperor said, getting up and going to the door. He threw one last smile at Yuuri before throwing open the doors and walking down the hallway.

Stroking Makkachin with the tip of his toes, Yuuri wondered who in the world had twisted his fate until it became this way.

But now, he felt a small sprout of hope in his chest, and he wished that the Emperor – Victor – would allow him to grow it a little more.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took a while to come out, life stuff had pretty much gone spiralling downwards recently. :c 
> 
> And then I had a well-timed holiday, which gave me time to recover. I should be back with semi-regular updates now. I do apologise for the wait, though.

It wasn’t long before Yuuri heard footsteps in the hall, and Yakov’s exasperated voice following not far behind.

‘Vitya, you can’t just waltz into the servant’s quarters to make your own food! Wait here and send someone like me to order it for you. You’ve got much more important matters to be attending to.’

‘I didn’t want to keep Yuuri waiting. It’s easier if I do these things by myself.’

‘Vitya–‘ Yakov started, but the Emperor was already at the door, waving at Yuuri with his free hand. The other held a tray with tea and assorted delicacies. Yakov sighed, turned around, and stomped back down the corridor, grumbling to himself as he went.

‘Shouldn’t you listen to him?’ Yuuri asked. ‘Though you are the Emperor, after all.’

‘He doesn’t know how long I’ve been sneaking into the kitchens,’ the Emperor said with a wink. ‘And really, Yuuri, call me Victor.’ He placed the tray down on the coffee table in between where both of them sat, and started pouring out tea for each of them.

Yuuri took a sip, feeling comforted by the warmth the delicate cup gave in his hands. The Emperor – Victor – sat down back in his place opposite Yuuri, holding his tea in his hands thoughtfully.

‘I asked you when we met here, but you’re a dancer, aren’t you, Yuuri?’

‘I was,’ Yuuri said.

‘Was? Can’t you still be a dancer now?’ Victor asked, then realised. ‘Ah.’

Yuuri wanted to mention Minako, but didn’t want to get her into trouble by letting on that he knew she came to teach Victor’s brother, and Victor himself. Thankfully, Victor brought it up anyway.

‘You get taught by Minako Okukawa, don’t you?’ he said. ‘She comes here to teach Yuri, and myself. You’re doing a performance with Yuri in a couple of months, so you can’t miss that.’

‘But it’s held outside Hasetsu Keep,’ Yuuri said.

‘I’m sure something can be arranged,’ Victor said, smiling. ‘As you said before, I _am_ the Emperor, aren’t I?’

That brought a smile out of Yuuri, and he mustered up the courage to ask Victor about the letter.

‘I’ll get it out. The only person that will try and stop me is Yakov. I’d try and arrange a visit, but I think the performance is about as far as I can stretch my influence.’

‘Thank you,’ Yuuri filled the words with as much honesty as he could, and Victor seemed to notice, for he smiled again. There was a slightly saddened look in his eyes, though, but Yuuri didn’t want to press.

‘I heard that you’re performing _On Love_. That’s a difficult dance. I know Yuri is practising for the first part – unconditional love – which means you’re doing–‘

‘Sensual love,’ Yuuri interrupted with a blush, a mixture of shame and embarrassment, the former because he couldn’t seem to get it right. And the latter, well… what kind of experience did Yuuri have compared to someone like Victor? He looked away from Victor to Makkachin, who was still wedged under his feet.

‘You can practise with us. I’d like to see you dance again, Yuuri.’

‘You would?’ He met Victor’s gaze, and they stared at one another for a moment before Yuuri hid behind his cup of tea, taking a sip and quietly ignoring the fact that the Emperor was still looking at him.

‘Of course. I choreographed _On Love,_ after all. It’s the first time I’ll be able to see someone else dance it properly.’

Yuuri almost spat out his drink. Instead, he managed to compose himself and not appear like he was about to spray hot tea all over the Emperor of the Nikiforov Empire.

‘You choreographed–‘ Yuuri started, but a knock at the door silenced him.

‘Come in,’ Victor said, and the doors were pushed open, revealing the Empress and Yakov. She opened her mouth as if to say something, but noticed Yuuri, and closed it again. Her icy blue eyes were trained on him, as though he was some kind of curiosity. Not in a bad way, but it still made Yuuri feel uncomfortable. Yuuri put down his tea quietly. What did he do now? Was he even supposed to be sat like this in front of the Emperor – had Victor just been lenient with him?

‘Victor,’ the Empress said. The Emperor nodded in response and looked at Yuuri. His eyes were creased with tiredness.

‘It looks like someone needs me. Yakov will take you back to your rooms.’

‘Thank you for taking the time to speak to me,’ Yuuri said, and taking a quick glance at the Empress and Yakov, added, ‘your Majesty.’

Victor gave him a smile that was quickly taken away as they both stood up, Yuuri being careful to step over Makkachin, who followed them both as they left the room. He and Yakov watched as the Emperor and Empress left the hallway together, the Empress speaking in a hushed whisper, Makkachin trotting between the two of them. Once they had gone, Yakov motioned for Yuuri to follow him through the side door.

They didn’t speak on the way back, giving Yuuri a chance to collect himself and organise his thoughts.

Now the Emperor was less of a hidden figure in his mind, he felt more comfortable calling him Victor, both internally and externally. He would only do the latter if they were alone, like today, or with Phichit. He couldn’t risk sounding above his station in front of any of the servants or concubines, and especially not Yakov. Though Yakov had called Victor something else… Vitya. He supposed that Yakov, given his age, had helped raise Victor from a young age, seeing as Victor’s mother, the Empress of the Nikiforov line, had died in childbirth. His father had left, stricken with grief, and no one had ever seen him again. Yuuri’s mother had assured him the city had been overtaken by a sombre atmosphere over the next few weeks in solidarity.

They had arrived at Yuuri’s house, and he bid Yakov a good day with a perfunctory bow before leaving the other man alone.

***

Phichit knocked on the door not long afterwards, concern splayed over his features.

‘Yuuri, how are you? What happened?’ he said, and Yuuri couldn’t help but smile. Phichit relaxed immediately. ‘You’re smiling! Come on, you definitely have to tell me what happened now.’

They both sat down in the reception room, and Yuuri began to tell him what had gone on in Victor’s rooms.

‘Not that there’s much to tell,’ Yuuri said. ‘Victor and I just talked–‘

‘Oh, this is good,’ Phichit said, and Yuuri gave him a questioning look. ‘You’re calling him Victor. Best not do that around the others, though.’ Yuuri nodded and continued on.

‘But he has the most wonderful dog – Makkachin – and he asked me about dance, and said that I could practice for _On Love._ He choreographed it, too.’

‘He _choreographed_ it?’ Phichit said, with a similar reaction to Yuuri’s, although there was no tea. ‘Now you’ll definitely have to show me, instead of hiding your performance all the time.’

‘It’s not ready yet,’ Yuuri protested, and Phichit laughed. ‘But I’ll make it so you can come to practice with me.’

‘Good, then I get to see the Emperor in action.’ Phichit smiled at him, but then grumbled, ‘I’m not going to be able to tell anyone about it, am I?’

‘Probably not,’ Yuuri said, and Phichit sighed.

‘That’s all the fun taken out of it. Everyone at home would love to get their hands on this gossip,’ he said. Yuuri shook his head.

‘Oh, Victor said that he’d get the letter out if we give it to him. He didn’t think that he could get us out to see our families, though.’

‘Great! I’ll go snaffle some paper and ink so we can start writing. The others are bound to have some hidden away somewhere. I’ll have to be extra sneaky.’

Yuuri decided he’d wait in the garden while Phichit was gone. The fragrance didn’t seem so overpowering, though maybe that was because this garden was far more understated than the one he had been forced to sit in that first night. That had only been yesterday, although it felt like a long time away, now. So much had happened, and it had only really been two days. Before he could get any further into his thoughts, however, a soft mewling noise brought him out of his reverie.

Slinking towards him was a very fluffy cat, and as soon as they saw Yuuri was looking at them, they wrapped around his legs, purring loudly. Yuuri carefully knelt down to stroke the cat, and they backed away so he could do just that, pushing their head into his hands and rubbing their cheek against him.

‘You’re very cute,’ Yuuri said. He’d never considered himself to be much of a cat person, but this one appeared to be friendly, and they seemed to be winning him over with ease.

Suddenly, the quiet was broken by a loud shout.

‘Potya!’

At this, the cat’s ears perked up, as did its tail.

‘Is that you?’ Yuuri asked. The cat, or Potya, meowed, before going back to butting Yuuri’s hand with their head.

‘ _Potya!’_ This time, the shout was louder, and Yuuri could hear footsteps. Standing up, he caught the sight of a blonde boy climbing over the hedge into the garden.

‘Is this your cat?’ Yuuri called, a little hesitantly. The blonde noticed him and stomped towards him.

‘Yes, he’s _my_ cat. Potya!’ he called again, and the cat finally left Yuuri alone to go and leap up into the boy’s arms.

‘That’s an interesting name,’ Yuuri said.

‘Stands for Puma Tiger Scorpion,’ the boy said, proudly. He gave Yuuri a once over. ‘So you’re one of the new concubines, then. And you’re supposed to be the other dancer for _On Love._ Can’t say I’m expecting too much from you, now I’ve seen you.’

The other dancer? That meant this boy was Yuri, Victor’s brother. He resisted the urge to raise an eyebrow at Yuri’s tone.

With a humph, Yuri stomped off again, though a little more gently because of Potya. He also managed to find the gate out of the garden, this time around. Yuuri finally let the smile of amusement play across his face now that Yuri had completely gone. He might have had a friendly meeting with Victor, but he didn’t want to ruin it getting yelled at by his brother, unable to retort without serious consequences.

Shaking his head, Yuuri went back inside and waited for Phichit, who didn’t take long to come back with an armful of paper.

‘How did you not get seen like that?’ Yuuri asked, a little bewildered.

‘Stuffed it down my shirt,’ Phichit said with a wink, causing Yuuri to huff out a laugh. They spent the rest of the evening before dinner drafting out what they each wanted to say, both of them rather solemn as they did so.

‘It’s funny, that the Emperor just wanted to talk,’ Phichit said. Yuuri looked at him questioningly. ‘No, I don’t mean it like that. You don’t know how glad I am that nothing like that happened to you. I just wasn’t expecting him to sound so… nice. I’ve heard a lot about the Emperor, and not all of it was good.’

‘You never told me any of the bad things you heard about him.’

‘There wasn’t much point. Most of it was probably just baseless conjecture, and by the time all this happened it wouldn’t have exactly helped your thoughts, would it?’

‘True,’ Yuuri said. ‘What kind of bad things _did_ you hear about him, though?’

Phichit shook his head. ‘I’m not telling. I know you, Yuuri, it’d make you worry more than you already are.’

Yuuri smiled. ‘True again. When did you start becoming so wise?’

‘Oh ha ha,’ Phichit said, rolling his eyes theatrically. ‘Anyway, we’d best hide this letter before dinner.’

‘Down your shirt?’ Yuuri teased, and Phichit just laughed.

‘Put it under your pillow or something. Then you’ll really have to hide it down your shirt so Yakov doesn’t spot it while he takes you to practice,’ Phichit said. Yuuri nodded, and there was a knock on the door as dinner arrived. Phichit moved to sit on the floor, and Yuuri felt that familiar twinge of guilt creep up on him again, even as he called for his friend to sit with him.

But for now, he knew they just had to suffer through it together.

***

That morning, after another thoroughly painful and guilt-ridden breakfast, there came a knock at the door. Phichit immediately sat up straight from where he’d been lounging on the sofa, picking at the leftovers and taking the time to relax when no one else was around. Yuuri had the letter in his hands, twirling it around his fingers. However, instead of Yakov’s gravelly voice alerting Yuuri to his presence, a lighter tone greeted him.

‘Yuuri! Can I come in?’

With a start, Yuuri realised that Victor had come down from the main palace to meet him. He froze, meeting Phichit’s wide-eyed gaze with his own. And then realised that he was keeping the Emperor waiting.

‘Come in!’ he said quickly, stuffing the letter into his robes and hoping that it wouldn’t get too creased. The door was flung open and Victor stepped inside. Suddenly, the lavish rooms of Yuuri’s new house seemed very bland compared to when he first came here, even though Victor was dressed plainly – well, as plainly as an Emperor could dress, anyway. Both Yuuri and Phichit stood up simultaneously.

‘I thought I’d come and take you to practice myself, rather than make Yakov do it. He’s been run off his feet lately, getting everything sorted for all the new arrivals,’ Victor said. He then caught sight of Phichit. ‘Did I interrupt you both?’

‘No, nothing like that,’ Yuuri said hurriedly. What did he do now? Did he add the “your majesty” part when he was in front of Phichit? Was he even allowed to be friends with his first attendant? What were the rules for this sort of thing?

Thankfully, before Yuuri could send his mind spinning with all the different possibilities, Victor made it simple with his next sentence.

‘Yakov said you both were playing chess yesterday together.’ His voice, much to Yuuri’s relief, wasn’t accusing, simply curious. Not that it would have mattered, Yuuri knew he was a terrible liar anyway.

‘Yes, we were. We’ve been friends for a long time.’

Victor smiled. ‘That’s good you have someone here you can rely on. Though, we should get going. You can come with us, if you want.’ He aimed his last words at Phichit.

‘Thank you, your majesty,’ Phichit intoned, although Yuuri was sure he wasn’t taking this as seriously as he should have been. Victor smiled.

‘If you’re a friend of Yuuri’s, you’re a friend of mine. Call me Victor, please. Though maybe not in front of Yakov.’

_Or the Empress,_ Yuuri thought to himself, though he didn’t dare say it out loud. Hopefully she wouldn’t be attending practice, even if it was only to watch Victor, Yuuri didn’t think he’d be able to stand the formal air.

Unfortunately, as Yuuri moved, the letter crinkled inside his robes.

‘Ah, you were expecting Yakov, I see,’ Victor said, holding back a smile. ‘Don’t worry. Just give it to me now and I’ll send it off later.’

‘Thank you,’ Yuuri said, trying not to blush like a tomato.

***

They walked in a companionable silence to wherever it was in Hasetsu Keep that practice was held. Yuuri was definitely not going to understand his way around here, even if he was here for the rest of his life.

That thought sent a small shudder down his spine.

Instead of dwelling on that, he just looked at Victor, who was walking in front of Yuuri and Phichit. He looked so… human like this, since Yuuri had realised that they were taking route for the servants and concubines, judging from the servants that were scurrying past. They stopped to bow deeply as soon as they saw the Emperor, who seemed to know this route like the back of his hand. They gave smaller bows to Yuuri, and a perfunctory nod to Phichit. They didn’t dare question what they were doing with the Emperor, though Yuuri was sure that there would be questions, especially for Phichit. Other than Sara and Christophe, neither of whom he expected to see at all, there was nobody to ask him questions like that. He supposed he should be grateful.

‘Here we are,’ Victor said, as they rounded a corner. It was an unassuming little building, tucked away from the rest of Hasetsu Keep and its hustle and bustle of activity. ‘It’s a newer addition,’ he added, seeing Yuuri’s puzzled expression. ‘Not many in our family were dancers, and most took their practice outside the keep.’

Inside, Minako was waiting for them. She smiled at them all as they trooped in together. To Yuuri’s surprise, Yuri was there also. He hadn’t thought Victor’s brother would be practising with them, for some reason. Maybe it was the irritable air he gave off, tapping his foot on the floor, arms crossed.

‘You’re finally here. With an audience,’ Yuri said.

‘You know Yuuri, Minako,’ Victor said. ‘Of course.’

‘And I know Phichit, too,’ Minako said. ‘You train with Celestino, don’t you?’

‘You’re a dancer, too?’ Victor asked.

‘I am,’ Phichit said, with no small amount of pride. ‘Your majesty.’ Yuuri was sure that Victor was suppressing the urge to sigh at Phichit’s title.

‘Great!’ Victor said. ‘You can use this space to practice too, then. Yurio, shall we start with you first?’

‘ _Yurio?’_

‘Well, we can’t have two Yuuri’s,’ Victor said, the smile never leaving his face. ‘So one of you has to have a nickname.’

Yuri looked about ready to explode.

Yuuri was certain practice was going to be even tougher than it was at home.

**Author's Note:**

> Another note, I don’t mean for Yakov to be mean, or anything like that. He’s just doing his job, and that happens to be finding Yuuri. I know Yakov is kind in his own gruff, shouting way, and hopefully that will come up in later chapters.


End file.
